


No More Than This

by crossthesky



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Oral Sex, Possibly Unrequited Love, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22124182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossthesky/pseuds/crossthesky
Summary: Timothy doesn't know if it's guilt or pity or charity that's spurred Moxxi to spend a night with him, but he doesn't care.  He's spent most of his life taking whatever he can get wherever he can, and now is no different.  (Post DLC)
Relationships: Timothy Lawrence/Mad Moxxi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 85





	No More Than This

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I have a real Thing for scarred, damaged men who love sensual, dangerous ladies who aren't quite sure how the feel about them. I know Tim/Moxxi doesn't have a snowball's chance on Eden-6 in canon, but I really don't care.

Even after only a handful of days, the casino looked like practically a different place. The ghosts and shadows of Handsome Jack, all the digital spectres and recorded memories that permeated the entire complex had faded away. His voice, silenced at last, no longer shouted from every speaker in mocking glee. Mad looters and gang members were gone from the streets and subway systems and seven years of blood and filth were already nearly removed. A cleansing had taken place. It was almost enough for Timothy to see the place as somewhere new, removed and different from the hellish prison that had been his life for too long.

Almost.

Even with Moxxi in charge now, even with the garish yellow being painted over and Pretty Boy gone...there were too many bad memories. It didn't matter that he could walk the streets with his face uncovered, the fear and paranoia was too much. Besides...he still saw Jack in every corner. Maybe he always would, maybe his worst fears were right and there was no way to ever escape the stranglehold of a dead megalomaniac, but maybe distance would help. He doubted there was anywhere in the galaxy that had never heard of Handsome Jack or seen his masked, leering face...but there had to places that didn't care, that weren't littered with his remnants. 

Even if Timothy himself was one of those remnants.

Whatever, it would be fine. Tim would be fine. The nightmare was over, he had his freedom and a decent chunk of cash to start a new life and Moxxi had promised him a ship to as far away from here as possible. That would be perfect, the best thing he could possibly do. Just go, try and leave all of this behind and start over as best he could. He had nothing to stay here for, anyway. Not really. Sure, Moxxi didn't hate him or want to kill him - he was pretty sure they were on the way to actually becoming _friends_ \- but she'd been pretty clear that she wasn't interested. Not in anything more. And that was fine! That was perfectly fine, Tim understood. How could she possibly even consider him, when he looked and sounded like the person she hated most in the galaxy? He oozed Handsome out of his very pores, he couldn't do anything about it. No, he was just the last remaining shadow of Jack and needed to go like all the rest.

Standing outside of Moxxi's office - Moxxi's, not Jack's, it hadn't been Jack's for years - Tim took a deep breath and smoothed his sweatshirt. He was still getting used to being one-handed, but he'd get a replacement cybernetic once the wound had healed, and it felt strange to touch things through his bandaged stump. It would heal well, though, the laser he'd used to remove it had cut it cleanly and cauterized the wound. Small bright sides. And he could replace with anything _not_ made by Hyperion.

The doors to the office slid open before Tim was even done knocking. Here the evidence of the casino's re-branding was most evident. No statues of Jack, no Hyperion colors, no painfully modern looking furniture. Moxxi's aesthetic had already taken over, the office plush and inviting and warm. Old fashioned couches upholstered in violets and reds had replaced the shiny leather and gold, tapestries and family portraits hung on the walls, Jack's imposing desk had been replaced by a beautiful hand carved wooden one...

And there was the lady herself. Bent over her desk, lips pursed in thought, a holographic display of the market district open in front of her. Tim's heart skipped a beat and he cursed himself internally. What the hell was wrong with him? They'd gone out _once_ , like a decade ago. And under false pretenses! It didn't matter that she'd known he wasn't Jack, he'd been there as an agent of Jack, acting _as_ Jack. She'd tried to kill him, he hadn't seen her in years...there was no reason for him to still be so crazy about her.

But he was. God help him, he was. One look at her and his palm was sweating and his stomach was doing barrel rolls and all he could think about were how amazing her eyes were. Just incredible, like the oceans of some untouched tropical planet. But smart and clever and glimmering with just a little bit of humor...they were eyes a guy could get lost in. That Tim _wanted_ to get lost in. It would be so much easier if it was just about sex, if he just thought she was insanely hot and wanted to sleep with her. Which he did, he absolutely did, but he didn't _just_ want that. As often as he thought about what it would be like to be naked and rolling around with her in some ridiculously lavish and perfume scented bed, he thought about just spending time with her. He may not have been able to remember what he majored in in college, or even what his original face looked like, but he never forgot that brief glimpse he'd been given of Moxxi without makeup, dressed down in a practical jumpsuit. He imagined that a lot more than he imagined Moxxi the sexpot, dripping sensuality and double entendres. He didn't think even Jack himself had ever seen her like that...

Tim realized probably too late that he'd been standing in the doorway, silent and fidgeting, just staring at Moxxi. She was staring right back, one perfectly sculpted brow arched in curiosity.

"Something I can help you with, sugar?"

"Uh...hey! Hi! Yes!" Tim cleared his throat, forcing his brain to try and put words together. "Sorry to bother you..."

"Not at all." The display disappeared with a touch of Moxxi's finger and she straightened, all smiles and quiet confidence. "What's on your mind?"

"First off....really love what you're doing with the place, looks great, barely even like the post-localized-apocalypse hellscape it did last month! Doing great things here, Moxxi!" Oh, god, he had not meant to flash fingerguns at her when he said that. There'd been a dim, stupid little hope that maybe without that god awful hand, the Jackisms would subside. No such luck. But Moxxi, to her amazing credit, barely even blinked. 

"Scrubbing every trace of Jack away can only be an improvement. Not to mention good for the soul."

"Ha, tell me about...which is the actual thing I wanted to talk to you about. Uh...the last week or so had been really great, you've been so great, everything's been just...great...geeze, Tim, how many times can you say 'great' in thirty seconds?" He scrubbed his remaining hand over his face, both calmed and somehow flummoxed further by Moxxi's calm and casual expression. "Yeah, so...I really appreciate you saying I've always got a place here, and it's been pretty amazing to sleep in a real bed again somewhere...not hidden underground, but... I think I'm gonna take off? I just..."

Tim trailed off, glancing down at the floor. Why did he feel like a coward? Or like he was doing something he shouldn't? Jack had been gone seven years, he was dead, Hyperion didn't give one single shit about Timothy Lawrence, Last of the Body Doubles. There were no consequences to fear, the casino wasn't going to grow a giant robo-hand and grab him and drag him back for daring to slip loose it's grasp. And yet...

"You're just ready for a chance in scenery. Who could blame you?" Moxxi came around the desk and leaned back against it, hands braced against the edges. Even the way she moved was incredible, an effortless and fluid sort of grace. She probably danced like a goddess.

"Yeah. Yeah, I sure am. I know it's probably the easy way out, just leaving, but...."

"Don't do that, Timothy." Moxxi's voice cut him off sharply, but not without warmth. "Don't cut yourself down like that. Handsome Jack was a monster in the shape of a man who ruined countless lives and the wounds he left are still healing. This place is my dream come true...but it's your prison."

"You know I still kind of can't believe I can just...go. I kept telling myself I wasn't gonna die here, but...I was pretty sure I would." One way or another. He'd never imagined anyone from the outside would ever get in, and as much as he knew how to survive...how long could luck really hold, when almost everyone had been out for his head? "Thank you. For that. I really thought I was a goner when that self destruct protocol kicked in."

"You saved yourself. You're a braver and better man than Jack ever could have hoped to be."

Tim wasn't certain what he mumbled in response. He was too keenly aware of how red and hot his face was growing at those words. He did notice, though, as Moxxi pushed herself off the edge of the desk and drew closer. The scent of her perfume filled his senses, something heady and spiced. It hit him fresh that once he left, it was unlikely he'd ever make his way back. And unlikely he'd ever see her again. This was it, the big goodbye. At least he got to _say_ goodbye, and end things well. Better than they'd left it the last time, with her wanting him dead and all.

"Uh..hey, since I'm heading out and everything...I know you and me, we never really...I get why you don't..." His eyes were flicking from Moxxi to the floor between them, his hand and wrist stump gesticulating aimlessly as he rambled. God he was an idiot, he was such an idiot, if he had to have bits of Jack floating around inside of him why couldn't he get the effortless charm? He wasn't even sure what he was trying to say or where his babbling was going. What was he gonna do, ask her out _now_? Go all sappy romantic drama and ask for just one kiss before he sails out of her life forever? Yeah, probably that one, actually.

Before he could steer his disjointed cascade of words, Moxxi held a finger to his lips and shushed him. He froze instantly, eyes trying to cross to look at her pointer finger flush against his lips, half open in mid-word. She was touching him. On his mouth.

"Why don't you stay _one_ more night."

"A...a night? A whole night. Stay a...wow, I was just gonna ask for a kiss..." He was reading this right, wasn't he? The implication was clearly that he would spend that night _with her_. Was this a pity lay? He had something that resembled pride left, would it somehow cheapen or lessen the experience if she was only spending the night with him as an act of charity? Did he even care? Timothy Lawrence looked deep into what remained of his soul and decided that no, he really didn't.

"I think you deserve the whole special, sugar, not just an appetizer."

"I am a very hungry man." Oh, that was bad. At least he snapped his teeth shut against a lewd joke about eating her. "Just to...keep the metaphor going..."

"Leave the metaphors to me, Timothy." Her finger moved, dragging across his cheek to rest against the long metal clasp at the edge of his mask. "And do me one favor, will you? Leave this." A tap against the clasp. "Off."

"Oh." It was a more than reasonable request. The mask itself was more identifiable than the face it was of. And there was no reason he _couldn't_ take it off, it worked exactly like the original. But he never had. Not for longer than he needed to wash and take care of his face. It had been drilled in, from the moment it was first snapped on, that the mask _did not come off_. A maskless doppelganger was a walking corpse. "Yeah, yeah, of course. Don't need it, no...no point in wearing it."

Aside from the deep seated fear of punishment. And the fact that as long as he was wearing a mask, he could at least pretend the face under it was his.

"Why do you still wear it?"

"Habit, I guess." Oh god, her hand was still on the side of his face. What was he supposed to do with his hand? Should he touch her? Much as he'd fantasized and dreamed about exactly this happening, he'd never thought it really would. He was going through a lot of that lately. "I wasn't ever supposed to take it off. Which makes the whole thing even more stupid, right? Jack went and branded my face just like his, then slapped a mask over it so no one could see. He could have just given me the mask!" It was something Timothy had thought about many, many times in the long hours of the sleepless nights. Jack had scarred him horrifically for no reason other than his own personal satisfaction. It wasn't for the job, it wasn't to maintain the illusion that Tim was really Jack, it was just so his psychotic former boss could know the face under the mask matched. That was the man Tim had sold his soul to.

But now wasn't the time to let the old guilt and doubt out to play. He shoved it down deep, burying it again, cautiously letting his left hand come to rest lightly against Moxxi's waist. She didn't reply, just peered up at his face with her sea green eyes narrowed thoughtfully and her red rosebud lips pursed. Maybe he should kiss her? This couldn't be real, it couldn't be happening, he wasn't standing here with Moxxi, this had all been some placating dream his brain spit up as he bled out somewhere in the depths of the casino....

Moxxi's other hand came up to the other side of his face. Her fingertips crept along the clasps of his mask, exploring the metal until coming to the catches that held it all together. Tim's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly. 

"May I?" Moxxi's fingers stayed where they were, pressing but not triggering the latches of Timothy's mask. His tongue felt too thick for his mouth but he managed a nod. His fingers tightened against her waist, dreading and thrilled over what she was about to do. Her fingers pushed downwards and he heard the little 'click's as the main clasps unlatched. There was a flow of air between the edge of the mask and his bare skin and Moxxi's fingers slipped upwards to the clasps by his temples. The room seemed very quiet and still all of a sudden, the soft click of metal overly loud. The soft tips of her fingers brushed against Timothy's skin as she flipped up the curves of metal that held the mask in place. The movements were gentle, oddly comforting in a way. So was the small smile she turned up to him, a pleased little curving of the corners of her mouth. The mask was nearly undone now. One hand held it at the top and the other drifted down to his prominently squared chin. The last clasp. God, Moxxi's fingers were so warm, almost hot against Timothy's face. His breathing was shallow and quick, his mouth still dry. A final little 'click' and he felt the synthetic flesh pull away. His eye closed instinctively, both to avoid Moxxi's expression on first seeing his face and to ease the adjustment from the augmented sight the mask gave him to half vision. Jack hadn't gotten to keep his left eye, why should his doppelganger?

But he couldn't stand there with his eye shut forever. When Moxxi's hands returned to his face, he cautiously opened it. There was no pity in her gaze and it was like the world started moving again when he realized that. There was sympathy, of a sort, but no pity. No disgust, either. Her fingers traced the edge of the angry red brand, moving over the arch of his cheekbone and laying against his cheek. What did she see, looking into his scarred face? _Jack's_ face?

"You don't have to say anything about how it's not that bad." He knew how bad it was.

"I've seen worse."

Another knot inside of Timothy released. No false assurance, no comforting lies to make him feel better. Maybe this wasn't just a pity lay. He wasn't foolish or blindly romantic enough to think this meant anything, that there was a chance for a future with Moxxi. But he didn't think she was sleeping with him just to make him feel better.

Now he kissed her. It felt right and he went with his instinct, leaning down and she leaned _up_ to meet him and Tim's arm went around her to pull her close when their mouths came together. Tim swore he heard music swelling. Moxxi's mouth was soft and wet and sweet and everything he'd ever imagined. Her body pressed against his, small and pliant and warm. He could feel the bared swell of her breasts through his sweatshirt. Already he could feel his body responding. This was the worst time ever to only have one hand, how could he possibly fully explore every inch of her body with just one hand? He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and over her back and...

She was pulling away much too soon.

Tim's eye opened slowly and with regret. He could still feel her against his mouth. Against his body. She fit so nicely in his arms...

"Give me two minutes, lover boy, and we'll take this someplace more comfortable." A wink accompanied the words and Tim's cock lurched in his pants. This was it, it was happening. He still wasn't sure how, or just what had changed Moxxi's mind, but this was happening. He watched her return to her desk, closing out whatever else she'd been doing and jotting down a few things. Her new look was a really good one - not that she hadn't always looked good. But something about the bustle skirt and all that hair gathered and piled on top of her head. How had she somehow grown even more beautiful? It shouldn't have been possible. Even the soft streaks of gray that wove through the heavy fall of her bangs was striking and alluring. He wanted to bury his face in it.

When Moxxi was finished she crooked a finger and sauntered to the back of the office, accessing the private elevator Jack had installed. Tim knew it well. He knew the entire tower well, he'd spent plenty of time in it before the lockdown. He followed eagerly, only shuddering a bit when he stepped into the elevator itself. The last time he'd ridden it up, he'd been with Jack. And he knew where it finished, in the lavish penthouse suite at the very top. Jack's own private domain. Moxxi's now, but it had been Jack's for all of Tim's memory. And he had plenty memories. He hesitated to call them _bad_ , but 'weird' seemed fitting enough. A lot of weird memories from that penthouse.

But like the office, the traces of Jack were gone. It was all Moxxi. The minute he stepped out it was like stepping into a whole new place. Pink neon and comfortable, antique furniture dominated the large main room, and little touches of the mechanically skilled bartender were everywhere.

"Really like what you've done with the place."

"Wait till you see the bedroom." Another wink, thrown over her shoulder. "You sit tight while I get comfortable. Pour yourself a drink, relax a little."

Tim was in no way, shape, or form an innocent. He knew exactly what 'get comfortable' meant in this context and he could only imagine the sort of intimate wear Moxxi had. He nodded, watching her retreat into a door at the back of the room. He was actually standing in Moxxi's room, waiting while she slipped into something sexy - as though she wasn't already dressed like a walking wet dream - so they could have a fun night. Together.

Ten years of dreaming and fantasizing and wishing things had been different and here he was. Yeah, he needed that drink. And it was easy enough to find the bar. He poured himself something stiff and substantial and stood by the window. Even the view was different with all the statues gone. Synthetic night had fallen and the lights were actually pretty for once. Moxxi was going to do amazing things with this place. He couldn't imagine a better fate for the casino. At least something good could come out of it. A few good things, really.

Suddenly, Tim wished he'd dressed up a little. He was still wearing the Hyperion sweatshirt he'd snagged from a gift shop during one of his foraging raids and his old pair of jeans. But he hadn't expected to be entertaining private company like this, least of all Moxxi. He still didn't know why this was happening, but it didn't matter. Moxxi wanted him. Even if maybe it was born out of guilt over how she'd treated him when she first sent her Vault Hunters into the casino, but it didn't matter. For once in his life, for whatever reason, Timothy was going to get something he badly wanted.

"Enjoying the view?"

At the sound of Moxxi's voice, liquid and lyrical, Tim turned. Oh. _Oh_.

Her hair was still all pinned up, but the little hat was gone. So was the heavy bustle skirt and elaborate bodice, replaced with a dark wine colored brassiere and some ruffled, flowing thing that draped over her hips and down behind her and left her legs bare all the way to the little black panties she wore. Her striped stocking clad legs. But even more enticing than all of that, what made Tim's blood heat and mouth dry the most...was her lack of makeup. The porcelain smooth white was all gone, the dark circles of blush and heavy eye liner that made her look like a living doll washed away. He'd only ever seen her like that the once before, by accident. Her age was clearer without the makeup, all the small lines and hollows starkly visible. But Timothy still found it more alluring than her painted face.

"Um. Yes. Yes I am. Moxxi you look...you look amazing. You always look amazing, but..."

"But I don't get tired of hearing it." She chuckled and it was like a punch to Tim's heart. How could anyone be so perfect? He set his drink down and moved towards her without thinking. The slight buzz of alcohol and the soft neon glow lent everything a dreamlike quality. There was just one little detail that wasn't quite right, but Tim was glad for it. His hand came up as he reached her in the middle of the room - and useless stump as well, out of habit - and his broad fingers delved immediately into her hair. He felt for pins or clips, tugging gently and clumsily until Moxxi's hair came tumbling down in a riot of loose curls. It had gotten so long, since he saw her last. Tim watched with unrestrained delight, eye following as heavy tendrils of brown shot with gray settled around her shoulders and down her back. His hand sifted through it, marveling at its fullness and softness, captivated by the sheen of the pink and red light on it.

"Tell me what you want, Timothy." Moxxi's voice low, husky, urging. It sent shivers down through him, an electric little jolt that ended in his groin.

"...You." How else could he answer? He'd envisioned dozens of different sex acts, every position he knew of, all manner of scenario a man ever considered when enjoying his private time in the shower. But they were all just the product of his own starved imagination, they didn't mean anything. The details didn't matter. He wanted it all, forever, but if that wasn't an option...he just wanted whatever she chose to give him. "I just want you, Moxxi. I've always just wanted you."

He knew how pathetic that sounded. How childish and idealistic and ridiculous. This wouldn't blossom into romance, it was...a goodbye.

"Oh Tim..." She laid her hand against his cheek. "You _are_ sweet."

"Then let me be sweet to you, for tonight. Let me just..."

"Oh no." She stepped in closer, the heat of her body touching him. "When was the last time anyone was sweet to _you_ , Timothy? You're going to follow me into the bedroom, you're going to sit down on the bed, and I'm going to take care of you until you're all out of ammo."

"Yes please." She could do whatever she wanted to him. Hell, she could strap him down and step on his balls and he'd probably thank her for it. He trailed after her on feet that didn't feel the floor. Everything but Moxxi melted away and Tim still couldn't quite believe this was reality. Even as he crossed the plush carpet of the bedroom, even as Moxxi turned to him at the edge of the bed.

"Let's get you dressed down for the occasion."

She reached for the hem of his sweatshirt. Tim only raised his arms to help, standing very still as the heavy fabric was lifted up and over and off, leaving him in his light gray undershirt and jeans. She was careful of his stump, easing the sleeve gently over it. Timothy watched in a trance as his sweatshirt was tossed carelessly aside to crumple in a heap on Moxxi's floor.

"You know...you don't have to do that. The whole super sexy thing, with the voice...and everything..." He knew it was an act, he'd already seen behind it.

"I'll keep that in mind." No change in her voice. Her hands returned to explore him, sliding over his abdomen and chest over his thin undershirt. At least all those years running and fighting and fortifying his various hideouts had kept him in really good shape. He was still trim in the middle and well cut in the chest and arms. His hand went back to Moxxi's waist and this time there was nothing between his skin and hers. The floodgates opened then and his arm went around her to crush her tightly to his chest, mouth coming down to capture hers in a hungry kiss. She tasted like wine and smoke and it was intoxicating. So was the little gasp she let out at Tim's attentions, a soft surprised exhalation against his lips. Her fingers twisted in his shirt and pulled at it, her body surging against his. She was all softness, the swells of her breasts and belly flush against him and stirring his cock to full hardness. 

It seemed to happen so fast and so slowly at the same time. Moxxi pulling his undershirt off of him, her nails on his chest. Moxxi pushing him back and down, onto the bed, standing over him like some fantastical queen of pleasure and desire. Her hair fell forward, over her shoulders and down the slopes of her breasts. God, what that brassiere was doing for her breasts...

Tim almost chastised himself for staring. She was halfway through ripping his clothes off of him, he could look at her breasts all he wanted. He could do more than just look. Oh god, why didn't he have a replacement hand yet? One hand was not enough, it just wasn't. But it would have to do.

Before he could debate internally any further, Moxxi took control. His intentions were written on his face in bold, He was practically open mouthed and salivating. She reached for his hand and guided it with an inviting smile, resting his broad palm against the cup of her brassiere. A small moan escaped Tim, a little shudder went through him. His fingers needed no further urging, stretching and stroking as he took Moxxi's breast firmly in hand. The cup of the brassiere was thick but Tim's fingertips reached over its edge to the bare flesh cresting and spilling out over it. His hand-less arm grabbed at her thighs awkwardly and she sank down into his lap with another rich, throaty chuckle.

"Behold the passion of a starving man."

"You have _no_ idea." It wasn't as though Tim had lived like a monk during the last seven years, but recently...not exactly much time to hook up with anybody. And this wasn't anybody it was _Moxxi_. His dream girl, the one that got away. And...would still get away but Tim was going to have a whole lot of flesh and blood memories to keep him warm in the future. Like how Moxxi was moving just a little bit in his lap, silk against denim, not enough friction against his erection to _do_ anything but just enough to feel really, really good. And he was getting the hang of holding her with just his arm, crook of his elbow against the small of her back. His single hand did double duty, dipping inside Moxxi's bra to palm her bare flesh as he bent his head to kiss and nuzzle her cleavage and the tops of her breasts. Like the starving man she'd called him, Tim sucked and nipped eagerly at her breasts, whimpering into them, clutching her to him. Her fingers were in his hair, holding his head to her, panting softly. He could feel her unbound hair on the back of his neck, against his cheeks. He was drowning in her, clinging to her and breathing her in until every sense was filled with nothing but Moxxi.

Awkwardly, determined not to let his single handedness impede him, Tim fumbled with the clasp of Moxxi's brassiere. Why were there like four separate little latches, this was torture. His fingers felt far too big for this, tips just rubbing repeatedly over the little metal hooks without dislodging them. He was making an utter fools out of himself, face buried in her cleavage and hand pawing at her bra... It was a miracle she hadn't climbed right out of his lap and asked him to go by now. But she just reached behind her, covering his hand with hers, guiding his fingers to pop the clasps and let her bra spring open. With a shrug of her shoulders it fell away and her breasts tumbled out, heavy and warm against the sides of Tim's face. 

It was almost too much. Neither one of them were naked below the waist yet, but Tim was pretty sure he'd be firing off in his pants before much longer. Not that Moxxi was wearing much at all. The ruffles of her train draped over Tim's legs and brushed against his hips and waist as Moxxi rocked subtly in his lap. He pulled himself back, already damp with sweat, breathing raggedly. God, even just _looking_ at her made his cock twitch behind his zipper. Tousled curls everywhere, breasts bare and hanging weighty and low with stiff wine colored nipples, soft belly sloping out over the frills of her train and the edge of her panties. 

"You're so beautiful." Maybe it wasn't the cool guy thing to do, to keep talking and complimenting her. But she _was_. And if she minded, she gave no sign, only kissed him fiercely.

He couldn't take it anymore. Out of habit, his right stump went for his own zipper. And brushed uselessly against it in what had to be the least sexy move Tim had pulled all evening. Oh yeah, that was the stuff, pathetically pawing at his own hard-on with a bandaged stump. 

"I normally have a hand there, which...you know. Still getting used to not. Makes me wish I was left handed..." His words trailed off into a weak, self conscious chuckle. 

"Just leave it to me, sugar." Then her hands were between them, slim fingers making short work of his fly. Tim leaned back, bracing himself on his good hand and his stump, the thick bedding offering more than ample cushioning. He watched with shallow breath as her hands dipped inside his jeans, fingers brushing teasingly along the length of his cock. He didn't try and bite back the stuttering cry of pleasure as her fingers went to work on him, stroking him and teasing him with an expert touch. She slid off his lap, drawing his pants down as she went, and he hastily toed off his sneakers and kicked them aside. When his jeans were gone she repeated the motion with his briefs, her breasts grazing his thighs as she slowly stripped him completely. His cock sprang free, already slick with precum and he stayed right where he was and just watched. Moxxi stood at the end of the bed, hands on her hips, plump lips curved up in a smile that Tim would never forget. Slowly, meeting his one-eyed gaze, Moxxi's fingers hooked in the edges of her panties under her heavy train. She slipped them down in a gradual but fluid motion then twirled them around one finger and tossed them aside.

She left the train and the stockings on.

"You sure you don't have any special requests?"

As though Tim could think when Moxxi was standing in front of him wearing nothing but ruffles that hid not a single thing. His eye swept over her naked face, her teardrop breasts, the neatly trimmed tuft of umber and silver at the junction of her pale thighs...

"No ma'am."

A shrug and Moxxi was on her knees between his legs, hands exploring the contours of his abdomen. Her breasts brushed against his cock and he wasn't even ashamed when he whined loudly and arched into the touch.

"Oh really?" An arched eyebrow as her hands went to her own breasts, lifting and pressing them around the length of his cock. Okay, maybe one, but he hadn't realized how much he wanted exactly this until she was kneeling between his thighs. Moxxi knew exactly what she was doing, rolling her breasts firmly against either side of his cock, rocking her body languidly. The tattoo on her chest flexed and shifted and Moxxi, still meeting his eye, pinched her wine red nipples between her own fingertips.

By the time she bent her head to envelop the head of his cock in her lips, Tim was nearly ready to come. He mumbled and reached for her head, flushing at admitting how little it took to get him to the edge. Moxxi batted his hand away and worked her mouth down over him, working her tongue over him. Nope, that was it. Tim's body tensed, fingers clutching at Moxxi's hair. A few more passes of her mouth and he was coming, loudly, hips jerking erratically. He fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling without seeing it, pleasure singing along every nerve. He had no idea how long it lasted, but at some point Moxxi's mouth slipped off of him as he lay back and tried to catch his breath. In a few moments she was back, cleaning him with a warm damp cloth. He turned and lifted himself up, half grinning like a fool with his hair falling over his brow and empty eye socket.

"Hey. C'mere." He shifted and squirmed until he was properly on the bed and he reached for Moxxi's wrist, pulling her down to join him. She tumbled into the bed in a flurry of frills and light laughter, the pair of them rolling together until Tim held her in his arms as she stretched out beside him.

"I hope you're not tapping out on me already, Timothy."

"Not on your life." He scooted in closer, his hand idly toying with one breast. "In fact...if you're still taking requests..."

"For a man who said he didn't have any, you're sure thinking of plenty now."

"Oh, you'll like this one." Tim pushed himself up, his arm still around her. "Here, sit back against the headboard..." 

He used his one hand to urge her into the position he wanted, leaning back against the pillows with her legs bent and spread. She moved as he directed with an air of eager curiosity and amusement, arranging her train to fan out around her. It was better than any centerfold spread or ECHOnet porn still Tim had ever seen. He took a moment to just look, burning the image into his mind. But only a moment, he couldn't restrain himself any longer than that. With a grin he hoped was rakish and confident, Tim threw himself down and buried his face between Moxxi's thighs.

She was already wet for him.

Eagerly, Tim ran his tongue over her smoothly shaven folds. Moxxi squirmed above him, squealing in delight, her legs drawing up further. He went down on her without restraint, tongue delving into her and playing over her swollen folds, lips closing around the aroused bud of her clitoris. Her hands were in his hair, carding through it, gripping at it when his mouth lavished attention on a particularly sensitive spot. His right arm wrapped around her thigh and his hand came to join his mouth, tongue and fingers exploring every slick inch of her. He was lost in the heady musk of her, the soft glistening perfection of her sex, the heat of her thighs. For the first time in nearly a decade, there were no thoughts at all of Jack in Tim's mind. The ghost was banished for the moment, silent and absent. It would return, of course, but for now there was only the amazing woman splayed out before him.

Moxxi wasn't quiet in bed, either. She urged him on vocally, crying out and moaning and telling him just what felt good and what she wanted more of. When he had two fingers buried deep inside of her and his tongue on her clit, she let loose a torrent of intoxicating filth in her pure and natural voice. Tim redoubled his efforts, gently using the edge of his teeth, wanting to hear her say his name just like that...

He kept going even after she came. He felt her clench and tighten around him before she called out and her nails scraped along his scalp in a blissful almost-pain. He lifted her hips and used his tongue inside of her, keeping her at that high point of pleasure, fucking her with his tongue and coaxing her to a second orgasm.

Finally, Tim pulled away. He sat up, wiping his dripping face with the back of his unbandaged wrist. His breathing was nearly as heavy as hers - she was still splayed back against the pillows, her neatly arranged train bunched and rumpled and her hair clinging to her face. She was a mess and she was perfect.

"You were right. I _did_ like that one."

Nothing suave presented itself in Tim's mind for him to say so he just nodded and mumbled a giddy 'thanks'. He helped himself to a glass of water from the bedside table before stretching out beside her. He rested his head against her shoulder and draped his arm across her, enjoying the closeness and the heat of her naked body against his. He kissed the breast closest to him and Moxxi ran her fingers through his hair lazily. And a little, or so Tim thought, affectionately. 

"You really are incredible. I don't just mean in bed, which you are, you absolutely are...wow...but..."

"I know." She turned into him, hand on his arm. "You're a romantic at heart, aren't you Timothy Lawrence?"

"I guess I am." He couldn't deny it, least of all to Moxxi. He'd been tripping over himself like a schoolboy since she came back into his life just a couple of weeks ago.

"You _are_ sweet." It was the second time she'd said it tonight. Was there some deeper meaning to the words? Or did she just want to assure him that she didn't mind what a lovesick puppy he was around her? Now wasn't the time to pick apart her every word and search it for clues or indications of her feelings. They were naked in bed and his body was starting to stir again. He rolled over her, holding himself up on his good hand.

"But not _just_ sweet. I can be a real dirty boy too ya know."

At least Moxxi's laughter wasn't cruel. Tim joined her, dipping his head, knowing how stupid he sounded. But that was his life, sometimes he just sounded stupid. He couldn't help it.

"I think I like you just the way you are."

The words came out before Tim could stop them. He didn't want to say them, he didn't even want to think them, but they were out before he realized it.

"Even with this face?"

Moxxi didn't answer immediately and Tim instantly regretted it. Why the hell had he gone and dragged Jack into bed with them? His shadow was already lurking between them, both of them sharing tangled histories with the man. And currently in what used to be his bedroom. 

"Well, it's all yours now, isn't it? You're the only man alive who looks like you." Her fingers brushed his hair back. "So make it yours, Timothy."

It was a unique take on his particular situation. But Moxxi had a point. Jack was dead, the other body doubles were dead...Tim didn't share his face with anyone else alive. A face was a much different thing than a casino, but maybe he could. Re-brand even Jack's stupid face. Take it from him. What the hell else could he do? Risk blowing up his face trying to get it altered back? And back to what? He didn't even remember what he used to look like anymore.

"I like the way you think, Moxxi. And that's enough awkward pillow talk, I'd say." He didn't want to kill the mood entirely, and that was already too much talk that skirted around Jack. "Better things to do with my mouth and all of that."

"I can think of one."

Kissing her already felt so natural. Tim pressed himself against her, cock stirring against her belly, mouth hungry against hers. He kept kissing her when she slid her hand down to his growing erection, stroking him languidly to full hardness once more. It was his turn to lie back now, stretched out against the pillows and eager with anticipation as she unrolled a condom he could barely feel over him. With a flick of her train Moxxi straddled his hips, arching her back to display her body as she sank herself down over him. Tim exhaled heavily as the wet heat of her enveloped him, her thighs pliant against his as she took all of him into her. He held her hip with his hand and his lower lip caught between his teeth. He was here, in Moxxi's bed, and she was riding his cock with an enthusiasm he didn't think was feigned in the least.

He wasn't sure what alien gods or forces of destiny he'd made very happy recently, but it was the only explanation for everything that had happened in the last week and what was happening right now. Something out there had finally decided to turn things around for Timothy.

Further thoughts were driven from his mind as Moxxi's movements picked up speed. She planted her hands on his chest and pistoned her hips and Tim didn't even try and keep up with her. He just held her at her hip and let her fuck him, only lifting himself up to kiss and suck at her swinging breasts, his tongue and lips playing over her stiff nipples. The penthouse apartment was filled with the sound of their coupling, the potent slap of body against body. Moxxi's nails scraped along his chest, filed points leaving white furrows in their wake. She pushed herself up, leaning back now, her stomach pulled taut and her breasts bouncing. She braced herself on his legs, giving Tim a clear view of their bodies where they joined. Following the line of his gaze, Moxxi let out a particularly loud moan and reached around to touch herself with one hand. 

All Tim's fantasies paled pathetically next to reality. His imagination never once came close to the feel of Moxxi's slick inner walls around him, the soft press of her fleshy buttocks on his thighs, and way the lines of her face shifted as her expression contorted in the throes of pleasure. For all the sensual promise her body held, it was Moxxi's face that sent him over the edge. Her lips parted lewdly, her eyes screwed and clenched shut unevenly, nothing calculated or posed about it. Just Moxxi, pure natural Moxxi in a moment of uncontrolled pleasure.

It was really over too soon. Tim couldn't hold himself back, he came hard and quick, fingers gripping Moxxi's hip tight enough to redden the flesh. His handless arm flailed beside him, phantom fingers clutching at the bedclothes. He knew he said something as he came, but he had no idea what. Her name? Something inarticulate? A mad declaration of love? Probably some combination of the three.

Moxxi just rode him through it, though, hand still between her legs and helping her to reach her own peak. Maybe not as satisfying a one as Tim's, her moans increasing only slightly and her body stiffening for a moment before she sank down against him. But that was alright. He'd rather she not fake something more spectacular for his sake.

Again, Tim found himself lacking for what to say. Moxxi climbed off of him, out of bed, unfastening her now crumpled train and crossing naked to a low table where a bowl of water and a stack of thin towels stood. He watched as she cleaned herself up, content and tired and wondering if he was supposed to get dressed and go now. He...really didn't want to. But cleaning himself up...that he should do. He got out of bed on unsteady feet, trying to stave off the insecurities and doubts that threatened to come rushing back. What if this had just been an act of pity? Wham, bam, get out of here man. God, why wouldn't his brain just calm down and not worry about it? 

"I don't know about you, lover boy, but I'm beat." She handed him a towel when he joined her. "How early are you heading out tomorrow?"

"Uh...I dunno, really. I guess...morning?" 

"Mmm." Moxxi's gaze was intent, searching, her thoughts impossible to read. Tim felt awkward under it, especially naked and post-orgasm and toweling off his flaccid junk. "That soon?"

"Well...I could probably head out in the afternoon." Interesting. "Plenty of ships to catch. So yeah, I could leave later." He cleared his throat, knowing his expression was one of eager hope. "If...if you wanted me to. You know what I want."

"Oh I do. You haven't kept it any secret."

"I mean...I could probably stay another couple of days, really. If...if I had a reason to." If she gave him a reason to. Part of him wanted to ask her why, why any of this? He'd been so sure he had no chance, but maybe...

"How about we see what happens tomorrow?" Or maybe he was just reading too much into friendly sex and temporary companionship. It was fine, either way, it really was. Already he had more with her than'd ever dreamed, and these were things he'd _never_ forget. Besides, it wasn't a _rejection_. He could go forever on 'we'll see'.

"Tomorrow," he agreed with a nod. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? At least he knew that it would start next to her.

Moxxi stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, at the edge of his scar, then took his hand to take him back to bed.

"Just promise me whatever happens...you'll stay sweet, Timothy."


End file.
